


Not Even On My Frequency

by a-waste-of-time-and-hot-glue (falloutboiruto)



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Canon-Typical Behavior, Comedy, Crack and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Redemption, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Social Media, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboiruto/pseuds/a-waste-of-time-and-hot-glue
Summary: Dr. Robotnik starts using a dating app and in the process also starts questioning every decision he's ever made.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 27
Kudos: 92





	1. If you've got what it takes

**Author's Note:**

> why i wrote this: idk fam  
> when i wrote this: exactly 24 hours after seeing the new sonic movie  
> warnings: depictions of verbal abuse/workplace harassment that ARE NOT COOL DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME!!!  
> beta read by: @reaperduckling  
> title(s) from: hurry up! by superfruit

While Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s sex life was mostly a DIY sort of activity, he did sometimes experience carnal desires that requited special assistance. It was just a shame that no-one could match his huge intellect. But maybe there was hope! Perhaps, nay, indubitably the dating app Trindr would be of use. A lazy Saturday afternoon spent in his second-largest penthouse apartment, he made a profile. It was great, like everything else he had ever accomplished.

_Dr. Robotnik, 53_

_I have many doctorates. I have a massive brain and other body parts. IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN ;) ;) ;)_

_THIS RIDE IS FOR INTELLECTUALS ONLY_

And thus, he started swiping (the Trindr technology was, of course, very badly designed compared to his drones, but he could make an exception this time). Dr. Robotnik swiftly separated the hotties from the uggos, the cool cats from the losers and most importantly, the brainiacs from the dumbos. Now, it was time to send out some offers that surely no-one could refuse.

-

 **Dr. Robotnik:** I am interested in having sex with you. I have an IQ of 300 so surely you agree. (√seen at 4.21 pm)

_You cannot reply to this conversation anymore._

Wha-No, this person couldn’t have _blocked_ him! They must have simply gotten so overwhelmed that they had, in awe, deleted their account. Even someone as great as he could get overwhelmed sometimes, so surely this dumb plebian must’ve gotten the same way.

-

 **Dr. Robotnik:** As you can see(I presume from your profile picture that you have eyes) my name is Dr. Robotnik. But can you, with your tiny little mind, guess what else you could call me? ;)

 **Smasher69:** uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh you’re not a very great conversationalist are you

 **Dr. Robotnik:** I HAVE A DOCTORATE IN SOCIAL COMMUNICATIONS YOU TWERP

 **Smasher69:** i can see that(with my eyes) 

**Smasher69:** i am also rolling said eyes. in case that wasn’t obvious

In a huffing rage, chest heaving and sweat running down his brow, Dr. Robotnik pressed the block button. Smasher69 was going to rue the day they were born, missing out on his great pick-up line and the _very real_ physical implications of it.

-

And so forth, an endless cycle of blocking and being blocked was born. It lasted late into the night and finally he sprawled himself out dramatically on his chaise lounge. Muttering to himself about the plebians of Trinder he finally deleted the app and threw his phone across the room. As he was insanely rich, he could just buy a new one tomorrow.

“Is everything all right, sir?”

Startled, Dr. Robotnik let out a ghoulish yelp. His assistant, Agent Stone, was present in his apartment. Just standing there in front of him.

“H-how’d you get here?” Dr. Robotnik said.

“I’ve been here since this morning,” Agent Stone said. “You asked me to organize your closet. I just finished."

“Oh, I didn’t forget… I mean! Then, uh. Go home!” The words were more barked out than spoken.

“Oh,” Agent Stone glanced at where Dr. Robotnik’s phone had landed on the floor(his phone had shattered a fancy vase in its path, he realized now. No matter, he could buy a new one). “You kept yelling about Trindr. Can you tell me more about that, sir?”

Dr. Robotnik’s (big) brain spontaneously combusted, and before he knew it, he was on his feet and inches away from Agent Stone’s face, yelling expletives. Agent Stone wiped away some runaway spit from his face, expression set. Calm. Eyes dark, darker than usual.

“Because sir, I can help you with most problems that might have led you to signing up on Trindr in the first place.”

Dr. Robotnik opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, and had to think for a second. Wait-

“You... You _dare_ insinuate that I would use my position of superiority compared to you, as your boss, to coerce you into giving me sexual favors? I would _never_ abuse a subordinate!”

Agent Stone wiped away more spit from his face. Oh right, Dr. Robotnik was just inches away, yelling at him on the top of his lungs. Hence the spit.

Dr. Robotnik’s face felt hot. “I’m doing it right now, am I?”

“What, sir?”

He took a step back, putting some distance between him and Agent Stone. “The whole… Verbal abuse thing. That I do. It’s not… _great_.”

Agent Stone blinked a couple of times, slowly. He touched his face where the spit had previously been as if he needed to remind himself. "No, sir. I suppose it isn't great that you yell at me and humiliate me."

“Yeah, uh—“

“Every day you do this. Why?”

“Ugh,” Dr. Robotnik covered his face with his hands. “I don’t even know why. Agent Stone, just leav— I mean, you can go home for the evening. Thank you for organizing my closet. I’m sure it, uh, looks great.”

Agent Stone nodded, and swiftly left the apartment. Like he’d been programmed to obey, like one of Dr. Robotnik’s drones.

Maybe other people weren’t just _things_ to be controlled. Dr. Robotnik felt lightheaded just thinking it, and made a mental note to himself to call the shrink's office tomorrow. Normally he let Agent Stone manage all of his meetings, but this call was one he needed to make himself.


	2. It's like we just met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i continued this! it's....... something

Therapy was going great. Greater than great, even! Dr. Robotnik started channeling his intense bouts of rage into screaming into pillows instead of screaming at other people. He even replaced telling people that their days were 'numbered' with slowly counting to ten every time he got angry. Also, he didn’t even get mad as often anymore now that he had through session after session processed the traumatic life-changing event of being mass-attacked by seagulls as a child.

_“And so there I was, strolling down to the beach,” he had said during one session. “The seagulls started swarming around me and poked me in the head with their sharp beaks! I told them to stop, but there was no use.”_

_The therapist hummed and made some notes. With her compassionate eyes zeroed in on him she asked, “How did it feel like?”_

_“Awful! I tried to beat them away with a stick, but it didn’t work! I kept missing! If only I’d had my drones with me….”_

_“Well, you’re safe here. That was then, but this is now.”_

Turned out that actually working on yourself _actually worked_!

-

Now, Dr. Robotnik awoke every morning with a (not _as_ unhinged) smile on his face. As he styled his mustache (with 10000$ beeswax imported from a small remote mountain village in the Himalayas) after showering, he even sang a jaunty tune to himself. As he took a walk around town, he helped old ladies cross the street and rescued a kitten from a high tree with a drone. He was a changed man.

“Sir, you seem to be in a very happy mood today,” Agent Stone said later that day. It was actually around 11 am, as Agent Stone now had a sensible work schedule and was not expected to be at Dr. Robotnik’s side 24/7.

“I am! That’s because I like your European goat milk lattes… _a latte,”_ Dr. Robotnik said, taking a sip from said latte and swiveling around in his desk chair. “I love the way you make them!”

Agent Stone looked down at his shoes, almost bashful. “Well, I can make them a lot more now that I don’t have to purchase the ingredients with my own personal money.”

“Uh, yeah….” Dr. Robotnik winced. He blinked, trying to recover from the wave of guilt he felt for having mistreated his assistant in the past. “I’m sorry I made you do that. And everything else. It was… _no Bueno.”_

Agent Stone nodded solemnly. “It truly was _no Bueno_. But you’ve clearly changed a lot these past few months, so I forgive you.” A pause, while he fidgeted a bit with the lapels of his suit. “So, have you tried your new positive outlook on anyone on Trindr lately?”

“Uegh-I mean, I’ve kind of burned that bridge already, I think,” Dr. Robotnik said sheepishly. “Maybe I should try out Ginder instead?”

“My offer still stands, you know,” Agent Stone said casually. As casually as a man could sound while loosening his tie just a smidge and undoing the top button of his shirt, anyway.

Dr. Robotnik’s brain all but exploded into smithereens at the sight of the sliver of Sexy Man Collarbone™. “Uhm,” he stuttered out, not very intelligently at all. But he had realized in time that it was alright to be stupid sometimes (if only very occasionally). “Hng. I mean— yes, _please_.”

-

All throughout what could only be referred to as the first act of the liaison he had found himself in, there was some kind of verbal negotiation of what would come next. Agent Stone had apparently admired Dr. Robotnik’s famed finger dexterity from afar for a very long time. It didn’t disappoint.

-

Several months later, Dr, Robotnik received a call from the US government about a suspicious giant blackout stemming from some county bumpkin town. He was intrigued, so he rolled out of bed and kissed Agent Stone(who had the day off, as per contract) goodbye. His drone-led research and accompanying road trip led him to the blackout-causing power surge: an alien-like animal that could talk(and had an extremely foul mouth).

“What are you gonna do, kill me? I’d like to see you try!” the blue abomination spat out, trying way too hard to sound cocky and conceal the panicked edge to its voice. It kind of looked like a hedgehog, if hedgehogs were blue. Dr. Robotnik had it cornered, drones pointing their lasers on it from every possible angle.

The old Dr. Robotnik might’ve considered killing this creature. But the new improved Dr. Robotnik was way too happy with his new partner/boy toy to bother with killing people and/or discolored hedgehog-esque creatures.

“No, I just want to talk,” he explained while calling the drones off, making them zoom away into the open sky. “My spy camera drones have shown me that you do that dance a lot. The dance that kids love these days. _Fleecing?_ Can you teach it to me?”

The blue creature (Sonic, he later learned) scrunched his weird furry blue face up and chortled. “Pfft— You mean _flossing_? I can show you some moves if you want to learn from the master.”

And so, Dr. Robotnik and Sonic the Hedgehog flossed together, fast becoming friends. Eventually everyone in town joined in and it quickly spiraled into a big dance party. It was among the top 53 things Dr. Robotnik had ever achieved.

(Achievement number 1 was making Agent Stone smile every day for the rest of their lives).

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ending of this fanfic was inspired by the ending to the cinematic masterpiece shrek.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos and comments if you like this :D


End file.
